Lost in a deep slumber, young Michael wasn't sure what he was dreaming about, yet it felt relaxing nonetheless.
Until a gentle voice lightly shook him.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
"Hm… please, just a few more minutes." Michael grumbled softly, turning to the other side.
"You said the same thing half an hour ago. You aren't getting away with the same excuse." The woman giggled lightly. "I made your favourite breakfast."
"!!!"
Immediately, Michael's eyes sprang open. With a swift motion, he jumped off the bed and glanced at his mother.
"Mom, is it true?! You made pancakes?!" His eyes sparkled in delight. Picking up the heavenly smell, he didn't wait for an answer and dashed out the door.
"Now, hold on, young man." Isabella's voice grew slightly stern as she held him back with one hand. "You aren't going anywhere until you change out of your pyjamas."
Michael frowned. "But changing would take too much time! You'll then rush me off to school!"
